From Ashes to Ashes
by Chatan00gaCh00Ch00
Summary: His life forever changed after the destruction of his home city, the rage gained from knowing his family's killers would go unpunished was enough to attract a Red Power Ring. Unable to bear life under Atrocitus, he leaves to join the resistance formed by the quite familiar Green Team. Shal'ai Draxus must now carve out a new existence for himself as a force for good in the galaxy.
1. Humble Beginnings

**Humble Beginnings**

"For the last time, Draxus, this just isn't enough! You're telling me you want 5,000 credits _per piece_? The concentration's barely at 80%!"

The space station reeked of illicit goods, all hoarded by smugglers, pirates and all manner of other malcontents who preferred to operate on the shadier side of the law. It was vast and dimly lit, with stalls of merchandise stretching as far as the eye could see in the gloomy and destitute corridors of Smugglers' Prime, the abandoned mining station that has now been suffering from outlaw infestation for going on twenty years now. Shal'ai Draxus, a rather tall yet thin young man, was examining one such stall. He was not pleased.

The room was small, cramped and loaded with everything from the tusks of rare, far off alien creatures to fenced weaponry stolen from God only knows where to illegal promiscuous literature. The table stood between the two of them – his colleague being a scrawny, shifty looking alien with a body made of two large tentacles meeting at a single, large eyeball.

A broken leg being held up by a bit of old scrap metal, on which lay a metallic briefcase containing three glass vials filled with a glowing yellow liquid.

"You asked for concentrated Orrum, you didn't specify how much you wanted. 5000 was the agreed upon sum and I'd highly suggest you deliver…or would you rather I remind Vernix that you missed last month's payment to him?"

Draxus hated places like these. They were nothing like his homeworld, where he should be.

The alien didn't seem pleased by the reminder of its debt to the notorious local enforcer for some cartel whose name escaped him right now, but he eventually sighed and submitted.

"5000…" he says in defeat, transferring the credits and closing the briefcase. "Now go away!"

"Shal", as he was known to some, smiled at his success, and the sound of the credits transferring being like music to him. "Nice doing business with you, too!" he says happily, turning on his heels and making his way back through the crowds and to the hangars.

"Draxus, come in," he heard from his communicator. Fantastic – it seemed captain of the ship he'd signed on with needed him for something…again.

"Yes, Captain Valo?" he asked, voice calm and collected, albeit holding back just the tiniest bit of venom.

"I thought I told'ya to be back here an hour ago! Where d'hell are ya? I'm stick 'a waitin'!"

Draxus took a deep breath and straightened his posture. He was taller than most but didn't quite have the muscle to back it up. He'd been compared to a stick on multiple occasions.

"On my way back now, Captain." He replied, hating the fact that he had to enlist his services.

His own shuttle was left back on his homeworld, Taloa, with his wife. She needed it for grocery shopping…grocery shopping! She got to hover around the paradise that is the Taloan capital buying succulent meats and fresh vegetables while he had to put up with a fat, rancid alien captain who believed that owning a vessel gave him a position worthy of respect!

"Good! And bring back some fried Xirindian wings while you're at it. I ain't had nothin' to eat all afternoon."

Draxus didn't bother replying to that. With a sigh, he traced the sweat off of his cleanly shaved head and got to walking. Hair always got in the way for him. He'd spent many hours wondering how his wife made it work so well.

A common saying claims that every Taloan had a different hairstyle. They had to do it, after all, as it was the only way aliens could differentiate them. To almost everyone they looked like an average human, but the males of the species had a very narrow range of variable features which resulted in them looking the exact same to almost everyone. Tattoos, styles of clothing, haircuts, phenotype genetic modification – anything that could be used to make themselves look different was greatly valued.

This was only to make things easier for alien species, though. Taloans could, among themselves, differentiate each other quite easily thanks to natural genetic imprints that could be read by others. Reading imprints was as natural as breathing for his people, and Draxus decided that if it was good enough for the people of Taloa, then it should be good enough for everyone else, too. To a human, two male Taloans could look like twins. To a Taloan, they would seem to be as different as Barack Obama and Brad Pitt.

Females of the race, on the other hand, had it much easier. They were as diverse as human women, each with their own noses and ears and eyes and lips and everything else that made them unique. One peculiar feature of the species was that almost every male Taloan was the equivalent of Earthen Caucasian, whereas the females all had their skin colored a dark gray.

Draxus' wife, Eletae, could easily be described by him as the most gorgeous thing he'd ever laid eyes on. Her skin was like volcanic ash, fitting her neat form perfectly. She wasn't very tall – females rarely were – but she made up for it in attitude. If there was one person in the galaxy who could put him in his place when he was getting fussy, it was her.

The more he thought about his wife, the less he wanted to stick around here so with a shake of the head he picked up the pace to get this over with.

"You're late," was the first thing he heard upon reaching his rented vessel, the Rugged Compromise. The ship lived up to its name – you had to compromise all standards if you wanted to set foot on this ship; its rust was eminent, the interior was cramped and filled with scrap metal, and its captain…well, he matched the theme perfectly. Fat, greasy, pink skin drooping all over him, dressed in working class attire…this was Captain Valo, owner of the esteemed ship transport ship he had the misfortune to employ.

"And I thought I told ya to get wings."

Draxus wanted to point out the flawed logic in him griping about being "late", as well as not wasting even more time to take a detour to bring him food but decided against it. All he needed to do was to fly from one place to another and the less whining, moaning, arguing, bickering or otherwise usage of breath that is largely inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, the better off they'd both be.

"They…ran out. I had to check somewhere else so that's why I was late," was his reply. It was a lie if he'd ever seen one, but lying was in his nature. He was a trader, salesman, accountant, occasional banker and just a general practitioner of the mercantile arts. It's what his people did.

The Forgotten Zone was no longer a place of _complete_ death, chaos and war. There were planets and colonies, each with industries importing and exporting goods all over the sector. Taloa was for the frontier like what Switzerland was for planet Earth – a large network of banks, completely neutral to any conflict with a wide network of financial and economical connections that ensured its survival.

As for the planet itself, it was a rather warm world with only one, vast ocean and continent. Gargantuan golden spires that towered up even to the heavens, the reddening sun shimmering proudly in the reflection, all huddled together in a single concentrated area which formed the capital city known as The Shine. All of these towers were important commercial centers and banks, used by companies and government officials from all across the frontier. Lawyers, ministers, merchants, terrorists, presidents – everyone who needed money stored somewhere used Taloa to do it.

Most wouldn't enjoy being surrounded in a place so closely focused on a single industry, but the planet was much more agreeable to live with than most others in Sector 666. Agrarian colonies were all well and good, but they didn't have the same spice of life that Draxus' home planet provided, and everything else was either destroyed beyond repair centuries ago by the Manhunters or too desolate and forgone to consider living in. For now, he was content with the bristling skylines of this ecumenopolis.

"Humph. I take it they didn't have any _there_, too, right?" asked the captain, not entirely believing him.

"If they had some then I would have gotten them. Now can we please get moving? You might enjoy filthy places like these, but I for one have no patience for them."

"Oh but of course, your Majesty. I don't suppose a spot of Erudesian tea and crumpets would tickle your fancy, too, would they?"

"As a matter of fact they would. But wait! How could I forget? That probably means dishwater and stale, moldy bread for you, doesn't it? Let's just move already."

With a slight grumble under his breath, the fat captain opened the hatch to his ship and climbed aboard. It seemed Draxus had just witnessed two miracles happen – the hatch didn't come off entirely, and Valo managed to make it through without any help on his part. There really was a God, after all.

One sigh and heave of effort later and he was aboard, dodging the trash littered around the floor of the vessel. Dark orange and black seemed to be the dominant colors here; the walls were lined with rust, the empty crates of a dark metallic alloy were placed precariously stacking atop each other in the corner to gather dust, half eaten meals were left to rot on nearly every available surface except for one – his room. Five words exited his mouth. Five neat little words forming the sentence that never failed to promise him peace, quiet and a moment of contemplation.

"I'll be in my quarters."

"Enjoy your snooze, Princess. I'll be here doing _actual_ man's work."

Shal didn't wait around long. He gave the order to take them back to his planet and quickly made his way to his room, eager to get this trip over with. The room was small, but he felt he'd complained enough today. He was lucky he didn't have to make his bedding out of crates and use molding cheese sandwiches as pillows. The overweight owner of the vessel at least had the common courtesy to give him a mattress while he slept on the captain's chair, so maybe he wasn't a _complete _blockhead.

Taking a seat on his bed, he rolled his head around to stretch it until he heard a distinctly audible, yet very pleasurable, crack. Deciding to call up his ball and chain and see how she was doing, he opened up his communicator and spoke.

"Eletae Draxus."

"At once, Mister Draxus. Calling…calling…"

His children were probably still at school and his wife may still be out getting groceries, but he knew she'd pick up. She always did manage to have time for him, no matter how busy her schedule got for her. It was one of the many things he loved and appreciated, even though his being away from home so often didn't leave a lot of time for him to show it.

"This is the automated voice messenger of ELETAE DRAXUS. We're sorry, but this user is unable to respond right now. We request you try again later. Alternatively, you could leave a message following the ping."

Two seconds pass and a quick, high pitched "dum dum" plays.

"Hi there, El, it's Shal. I just wanted you to know that I finished up business over here and am on my way back now. Hope everything's alright with you and the kids…"

He paused for a moment as he tried to think of something else to say, but nothing really came to mind.

"I…miss you. This trip's been rougher than most. Had to put up with a lot of people's complaints, but it was worth it…Well, that's about it. I'll be back real soon. Say hi to the kids for me, ah and in case I forget…I love you, El."

By Aetis, the Mistress of the Sun, that was awkward. He hated recorded messages or texts or anything that wasn't face to face interaction when it came to talking to his wife. He had no access to body language and it always came out sounding wrong and overly dramatic. He was able to get the message across at least. Hopefully she'd take pity on his terrible message and at least be ready to reward him for the suffering he'll endure whilst thinking about what he _could_ have said over the course of the voyage.

It was strange that she didn't pick up, though. She normally always did, but El probably just went to get her nails done or something. Maybe there was traffic. Shaking his head, he stretched once again and laid down on his bed to try and get some sleep. This month had been beyond difficult, but the season overall had been killing him. Bureaucrats, tax collectors, lawyers, various government inspectors, banking officials – it seemed the entire financial world wanted him to do work as slowly as possible, and almost every client he took up seemed to drop him because of forces out of his control.

It was madness and it was having an effect on him. He never struggled to make ends meet and it wasn't the case here, but he'd always had a quick temper he tried his best to keep hidden. His wife was patient with him and he loved her for it. The children did their best to be orderly and not do anything to make their father angry, but at 10 and 8 they were still growing and needed excitement. It was times like these that he realized how important his family was to him. Money was transitory but his family was forever, no matter how many times he'd snap or gripe or yell.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to let sleep come to him at last. The rumbling of the engine, the subtle vibrations as they flew through space at speeds he could hardly even imagine, it all made falling asleep difficult. He was stubborn, though, and he just clenched his eyes and tried to focus on the darkness, not letting his mind wander off…It didn't work for very long, though, and soon enough his mind was back to running rampant for another hour or so until he felt the ship stop moving altogether.

It was probably just Valo doing random repairs. It was no secret that this ship needed them. Of course, that was until he heard a rather hurried thumping coming from down the hall. Climbing to his feet, he walks to the door but stops just short as it's opens by itself to reveal the captain standing there, his expression fearful.

"Kid…You gotta come see this."

Alright, now Shal was getting worried. Had something happened? Since when was he a 'kid'? What matter needed his attention so desperately? Did they reach Taloa? Not even having time to process all the questions racing in his head, he just follows him to the bridge and looks out the main window to see his home planet significantly different than how he left it. When on the dark side of the planet, The Shine was previously visible even from orbit as a bright speck of white light, but now, even under the sun's bright blaze, all that was visible was a smoking crater.

The image slowly sunk into his mind, branding itself firmly into his memories. His brain could hardly process the implications of all this; the death, the destruction, his family…his family! Were they safe? Was everything alright? Is this why his wife didn't pick up? When did this happen? Shal'ai blinked a few times, jumping and turning to his left when he feels a hand on his shoulder. It was Valo's.

"We…we've got to go down there!" he demands, wanting, no – needing, to confirm his family's safety.

Valo slowly shook his head and replied, "No can do, Draxus. Rescue officials got the entire place on lockdown. No way anyone's gettin' in there."

That wasn't good enough. He had to be down there now! Under normal conditions he'd scoff at or vastly chastise people who would try to get in the rescuers' – trained professionals – way to find their families, but this was different: now _his_ family was the one in danger and _he _needed to know everything was alright! Jumping onto the captain's chair, he brought up the display and took the ship down.

"Hey! Whaddaya think you're do-ach!"

Shal'ai had never gotten into a fight before, but he'd seen others do it. He got off the chair and kept a hand firmly squeezing around the alien's neck – albeit a bit poorly due to the layers of fat that constituted his many chins – and gripped tightly.

"I'm commandeering this vessel. Now sit down and shut up!" he yells back at him, not having time for niceties anymore.

Tossing Valo into the piled crates, he heard them collapse on top of him, cracking open and even knocking down a table. "Uuuugh…" was all he heard in return and he was pleased with himself. However, he still had a mission to accomplish – get to the Shine and find out what was happening.

He was just about to break into the atmosphere when a message appeared to his left. A man in a security uniform, his hair styled in a swooping wave that was buzzed to the skin on the left but gradually grew near-cheek length on the right – all of this accompanied by a tattoo of an arc going across his forehead – popped up in hologram form to warn him about approaching the planet.

"This is a restricted zone. Civilian presence will not be tolerated. Interference with rescue operations shall be counted as an offense and treated as such. Adjust course immediately."

Shal'ai just ignored him and pressed a couple buttons until it shut off the comm. He would not be delayed. Not when so much was left uncertain. What happened to his planet? Where was his family? He had to know the answers and he had to know them now. Of course, a few seconds of flying closer had revealed the answer to the first question – a meteor impact. But this was…impossible. The shockwaves were not like those of a bomb, but for it to have such a tremendous force as to destroy everything in the vicinity was unnatural; especially given the fact that it was still small enough to destroy the entire capital but leave the rest of the planet unharmed.

His family was likely dead given the nature of the attack, but he wouldn't rest until he knew for certain.

"Would there even be bodies?" he wonders, quickly shunning those thoughts from his mind. At the bottom of his heart, though, he knew it – his family was dead. Everything he did now was just denial to honor their memories.

A lot of things were still unclear, but one certainty did stand true in the darkness of ignorance. This was no accident. Not in the least.

**Author's Note**: Welcome to Chapter 1 of From Ashes, a tale about the life of Shal'ai Draxus and his quest to uncover the truth about his family's mysterious demise. I'd like to take this time to thank anyone who took the time to read it, as well as assure you all that it is indeed a Green Lantern the Animated Series fanfic. This is only chapter one, but starting from now the plot will indeed be more definitely set into the established universe. I took the liberty of creating a new race, planet and character. The details of them all will be looked into a bit more in depth in the future, however. Any reviews will be appreciated and constructive criticism is welcomed. It's my hope that you all enjoyed reading this and look forward to hearing back from you in the future!

**I do not own Green Lantern the Animated Series or any of the characters established as canon, nor do I claim any rights to it. **


	2. Scorched Earth

**Scorched Earth**

The asteroid was empty, rocky and a complete pain to be on. There was nothing but stars to look at, too. Overall not the best job he'd ever taken but still – it paid well enough and it wasn't really a lot of work, so why not? All he had to do was set up some propulsion systems to move the asteroid to where it needed to be. They probably just needed to mine it out for metals or something. People got crazier and crazier as they developed, always on the lookout for more of nature's resorces to exploit. It didn't matter to him none, though. He just moved things.

"'Ey! Proji! Quit nappin' and get movin'!"

Sometimes he had to discipline his workers. They always tended to get lazy like that.

"Y-yes, Foreman Belix! N-no whip! No whip!" begged the worker in return. It was a small orange thing. He didn't care about the species, just that it was cheap labor and couldn't read contracts. So, yes, he was a bit of a tyrant when it came to his job, but he slept easy at night knowing that his service of moving asteroids was what gave planets the resources needed to continue standing, thus forwarding progress. The need to keep his workers effectively enslaved was regrettable, but necessary…not to mention profitable for him and his company.

He didn't know much about the job, except that he needed to move the rock to Taloa. He was contracted by some company called RL Corp. Sounded like a stupid name to him, but they paid well and had all the credentials (which he may or may not have skimmed over when their representative showed him the credits). So they'd take the asteroid, mine it, and then maybe even hire him again to get rid of the excess bits from the carcass. He never really thought that far ahead, though, as he was more of a 'take the jobs as they come' kind of guy.

The deal was a bit different from the ones that he usually took. They paid extra and in cash, to boot. He took it because it meant it wouldn't appear on the records meaning he'd skip taxes, plus he could keep it all for himself. The former was a major point of insistence for them, though. Almost as if they didn't want any connection to the deal. The representative fixated on the fact that they mustn't be connected in anyway, and boy was she an odd one. Blue skin, black skeletal wings and a very revealing red outfit he spent much of their interaction admiring. He didn't get a name from her, much to his dismay, and she seemed to have a temper so maybe it's for the best.

"I don't recall paying ya to move slow, Proji! Do you want me to cut your pay again?"

"N-n-no, Foreman Belix! I work fast! I work fast!"

"Then get working! We need to get that asteroid to Taloa right-pronto!"

It was another request on their part. RL chose him out of all other companies because they found him trustworthy! The extra payment was just to make sure he moved the rock at exactly the right time interval. He didn't know what made things so urgent for them, but when credits had that many zeroes he didn't really find himself to be the talkative sort. It had to be at a specific hour of a specific day, no exceptions. They probably just needed it for a very urgent science project or something.

The truth of the matter was a lot more sinister. He was chosen because he was a buffoon, and a greedy one at that. He'd take their money and nod his head, but when people came to ask questions he wouldn't have anything to show them. Not a camera recording, not a document…not even witnesses. All they needed was his equipment and nothing more. The attack would get blamed on terrorists trying to disrupt the economy, and "RL Corp" would get a new recruit out of it. Everyone wins.

Belix watched the mangy alien finish up the circuitry in the panel. Now the asteroid would be able to move properly and controllably. Leaning backwards in his chair, the foreman reached up to scratch an itch only to remember he was wearing a spacesuit. He hated these damned vacuum jobs. Normally he had the time to set up protective spheres so they could work in their jumpsuits, but the time limit wouldn't allow it. Now he had to put up with a whining worker _and_ unbearable (a slightly heavy suit) conditions!

"All done, Foreman!" shouted the alien happily, knowing he was off work for at least another few hours.

"Good. Now you can get to cleaning my ship. I want it spotless!"

"Oh…Yes, Foreman…"

Belix rose from his seat and made his way over the thruster. It was a standard process – the ship carries it over, sets it down on the asteroid, a ground crew secures it and then inputs the necessary commands. This asteroid was much, much smaller than the ones he normally worked on. Those could reach up to 30 kilometers in length, but this one didn't even touch a fraction of that. Maybe it had some hidden property their scientists were interested in. He'd wager something like that would be valuable to someone, somewhere…

But this wasn't the time to get greedy! He'd been burned on more than one occasion for trying to run off with a mineral rich asteroid, and he's since learned to operate on the policy of "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush". The holographic display lit up brightly and he got to work typing in the necessary coordinates – right above the Shine on the planet Taloa. They'd wait in orbit for a team from RL Corp. to pick them up and take it off their hands. That was the plan, at least. He activated the thruster and watched as it lit up brightly, propelling them at a rather fast pace to their destination. Now they just had to wait till they got there.

On the other side of the tiny asteroid, Proji was making his way back to the ship. He was not happy about this at all…he was ecstatic! At last he'd see the death of the vicious owner he was tricked into serving, and it would happen right under his nose! He made his way to the cockpit and opened up a communications channel to contact the RL representative. Belix was a fool to think they actually required his useless services when they had someone much more capable and ready to serve right next to him.

Before long the face of the aforementioned woman appeared on the screen and she didn't seem pleased at all.

"What is it?" she asks, already lashing out at him with an aggressive tone.

"Mistress…" he begins, trying to butter her up, "The device is set and primed, ready to be activated on your command."

"Excellent work. Further orders will be given once you reach the planet."

"I will be waiting. But what about Belix?"

"Leave him. I want everything to operate normally until the next phase of the plan."

This news made Proji a bit unhappy. It meant he'd have to play the part of tedious slave even longer. Taking a deep breath, he figures that their professional relationship had gotten to the point where he could be included in some of the higher functions of the plan. Till now he'd been kept in the dark almost completely, but they did promise that he would not only keep the money given to Belix, but they'd also set him up on his home planet with a comfortable life. Just like the foreman, he was too greedy to ask questions.

"I…I think I'd like to know a bit more about the plan. What's on this asteroid that you need?...And what was the device you asked me to put in the thruster?"

It took every ounce of self control in her body to stop herself from lashing out at him, destroying him verbally in ways that would make even Belix the tyrannical slave driver blush and look away in shame. Who did this scum think he was? Asking questions like he actually mattered in the slightest degree to anything? This was why she hated dealing with people. They had to be stupid and pretentious every single time. Why couldn't the sphere handle this mission? He loved blabbering endlessly!

"I'm…afraid that we can't disclose that yet," she replies, trying to uphold the thin veil of professionalism, "Understand that it's for your own protection."

"But I…I…Yes, very well. I understand."

"You have your orders, Proji, and you carried them out. Once we reach Taloa, everyone will get exactly what they wanted from this."

With a firm nod, he closed the communication and got to sweeping the floors. She said everything had to operate normally and the last order he got was to clean the ship. It'd be difficult to concentrate with how giddy he was feeling, but in the end he knew it'd be worth it. An hour or two more and they'd reach the planet, RL would deliver their dues and he'd be free of a life of servitude forever. He just needed more time…

Back on Belix's end, he finished inputting the commands and returned to the ship, treading lightly on the barren ground of the asteroid. It was moving at a decent pace, and they were relatively close to Taloa anyway. The asteroid belt was frequently used for things like this, but the asteroids themselves were usually kept at the belt to be used by the colonies. To take it back to the planetary capital was…strange. He'd already chalked it up to scientific needs, though, so there wasn't much point in debating it further. He climbed up the ramp and took a seat, desperately in need of a good rest after a long day of shouting at Proji to get working.

Time passed slowly, but even they had to reach their destination eventually. They couldn't go too fast or else they would be at risk of rendering the asteroid uncontrollable, possibly even crashing into the planet. As such, a relative snail's pace was used to get them from the farther edges of the Aetis system to its habitable zone. It was once they were finally nearing orbit that Belix went to turn off the thruster. Taloa was about the size of Earth – maybe a bit bigger –with most of it arid yet fertile. It wasn't the best place to live, but it was alive and virtually every building had cooling built into it. Even its architecture – the incredibly tall towers – lent to their efforts of staying cold.

…And it would all come crashing down soon enough. The Shine was reaching its final moments, as unbeknownst to both Belix and Proji, the small gray box planted deep inside the thruster activated and began broadcasting its signal. The ship's engines, life support, transmitters, scanners and communication disabled entirely, and Belix, who was there scratching his head as to why he was unable to shut off the propeller, now looked in horror as the controls jammed and remained unresponsive. He opened up his communicator to call the ship and tell Proji to pull the plug, but it wasn't answering! He had to get there ASAP and shut everything down or else millions of people – as well as his chance at getting paid – would die in a fiery explosion!

"No, no, no, this isn't good. Thiiis isn't goooood!" he thinks to himself in panic, desperately looking through the controls before hauling rear-end and running as fast as he could back to the ship. There he was presented with a new obstacle.

The hatch was closed. The hatch was closed! There was no use trying to yell in space, and pound away as he might at the door, it still wouldn't open. Inside the vessel, his alien servant was trying to get the systems online. He heard the dreaded crackling of electricity and knew what had happened – he'd been betrayed! That blue _bitch_ lied to him! All their promises…and he believed them! Millions were going to die and it would be entirely his fault. There was no more use in trying to get things working as "RL Corp.", assuming that's even who they really were, were thorough in their sabotage and subterfuge. His greed will have laid waste to everyone and everything in that city, and he knew he'd be paying for it in either this life or the next. All he could do now was sit there and wait for the inevitable. It was all he _could_ do now...

Luckily for the planet, however, the asteroid was both small and slow moving meaning its momentum was quite frankly much, much smaller than what it could have been. It wouldn't destroy the environment, shift the climate or otherwise cause any truly devastating long term destruction. The capital was forgone, however, along with anyone living there. Inch by inch the meteor descended onto the hopeless Shine, its people screaming in terror, but not moving. They knew there would be no point and they'd accepted the inevitable. In a bright flash of light, the shockwaves annihilated everything in the blink of an eye, shattering spires, toppling buildings, crushing the people with rubble or burning them to a char instantly. All the while an innocent financial advisor was peacefully sleeping aboard a cargo transport, eagerly waiting to return home to his wife. Hours passed and rescuers were slow, with survivors numbering only in the double digits. They were the last remnants of a city that once housed tens of millions. To call the destruction 'thorough' would be an understatement. It was utterly and irrevocably complete.

Scouring the wreckage of the city, topping over the rocks and climbing over the twisted metal, the grotesque image of a warped city, once proud and beautiful, now reduced to a wasteland made itself clear. Shal'ai was rushing back to where he _believed _his house was, but truth be told he couldn't recognize anything. It was a futile effort and he knew there was no point to it at all. The chances of him being caught looting or 'interfering with operations' were slim to none, because no doubt everyone was doing it. The navy had blockaded the planet to prevent any would-be pirates or raiders from trying to take advantage of the chaos, but as for order on the ground…there was little. He was glad the planet would survive, but could he? Could he move on from having his entire life's slate wiped clean so brutally? He didn't know. He couldn't know. Not yet.

"Eletae! Eletae!" he shouted in vain after his wife, "Krav'ai? Faela?" Perhaps his children would hear him. Perhaps they'd come running from behind a rock and tell him everything was alright. His wife would be in a shelter and they'd be reunited, and then they'd move to one of the colonies and forge a new living as peaceful farmers, away from the big city and death and destruction. It was a lie, though. There was nothing here but heat and wreckage with the sun burning brightly on him. The red rays beat down on the planet mercilessly every day, but his people survived it and flourished.

Maybe this was just another test of endurance…To see his strength of character. If it was, then he'd failed it. He failed it miserably. What he couldn't understand, however, was why. Why would anyone do this? What possible 'greater good' would anyone aspire to serve if it involved slaughtering over twenty million innocent people? Was it to prove a point? Was it to teach everyone the folly of placing their faith in money for some ideological cause? Or was it just a sick move made by madmen, eager to revel in the suffering of others? Regardless of what it was, there existed a much more sinister connotation to all this.

He wasn't the most active or pious of followers, but he still subscribed to his people's beliefs. Aetis, the Sun Mistress, was head of the Pantheon and traditional defender of his planet. Would any higher power sit by and let this happen? He didn't want to believe it, but the evidence spoke for itself.

"You were supposed to protect us!" he shouts to the sun in defiance, unsure of what he was even saying. "We looked to you for guidance, venerated you, even worshipped you…and this is our repayment?!"

No answer. Only the blistering heat. A single tear slid down his cheek as it all finally set in firmly. His family was dead, his life had collapsed and this planet…it could never be his home again.

"YOU LIED TO ME!" he screamed, now breaking into full sobs, wallowing in the destruction. But from his sadness came a new emotion – rage. He was a simple man, never a threat to anyone. But made it a vow that he would find those responsible and wipe them from the face of the galaxy, only after making sure they lived to witness every horror imaginable and more. There would be no rest, no penance, no quarter given, no mercy shown. He would live to become the instrument of vengeance for his people.

"I'LL KILL THEM ALL!" he shouts once again, fingers gripping tightly into the sand and gravel beneath him. Woe be to anyone who stood in his way. He would scour the universe, pursue every lead, kill anyone who came in his way. He'd…wait. Something was wrong. In his seething and sobbing, he seemed to have missed the object looking over him, hovering in the air and watching silently. He stood up and dusted himself, taking a few steps closer. It was…a ring? Redder than blood and glowing like the sun.

"Shal'ai of the Forgotten Zone…" it says, identifying him. Its voice was deep, menacing almost, but also…caring? It seemed to sympathize with him in a way. "You have great rage in your heart. You _belong _to the Red Lantern Corps…Give in…The Ring _knows_ your pain."

He…he didn't know what to do now. Nothing the ring told him made any sense, but it didn't need to. Ever since he left the space station, so proud of himself for sealing a petty and meaningless deal, he'd felt different. Something was off. He was used to knowing all the facts before doing anything, being sure of every possible outcome and knowing exactly how to handle every situation. Not this time. And he didn't care. Just once in his life, especially now that he was effectively starting anew, he'd like to do something on a limb to see where it takes him.

"I _must_ find those responsible for this…" he says, making a sweeping hand motion to the destruction, "And _**kill **_them all…Can you…Can you help me?"

The ring seemed to already know what he was about to ask, because it was quick to answer. "You will have your revenge. This your new master, _Atrocitus_, promises."

The ring moved onto his finger, firmly attaching itself almost as if it was specifically crafted for his personal use. A beam of red light exited the insignia carved upon it and made its way to his mouth, drizzling down his throat and into his stomach. It burned like all hell, but he could take it. Bending forward and gripping his stomach, he closed his eyes in an attempt to contain the fiery pain that was now spreading all across the entirety of his body. When he felt it was over, he leaned back and delivered a bloodcurdling scream louder than he even thought possible. The pain was welcome, though. His family felt it. His people felt it. Why shouldn't he feel it, too? The light engulfed him entirely. His attire, once consisting of average black formal attire, now shifted to what he could only describe as a sort of…advanced military battle suit, complete with a red and black paint scheme and crest of the Red Lanterns on his chest.

Taloa had nothing left to offer him and the ring functioned automatically, lifting him to the heavens, breaking through the atmosphere and making its way back to Shard with him following closely behind. It was, frankly, terrifying but he was much too angry to be scared. It seemed like the ring functioned as a sort of enhancer – absorbing his rage and dishing it back out tenfold. His destination was a mystery, but if he had to guess, it was going to take him to his supposed 'new master', this 'Atrocitus' fellow. His name sounded unpleasant, but if he was going to help him find those responsible for his family's death then he'd be able to put up with some minor discrepancies.

It wasn't long before a miniature black city came into view, pulsing with red outlines. This was to be his new home. A headquarters, of sorts, from which he would aid the Red Lanterns in their quest for vengeance. He would help them only if they helped him in return. Time would tell what would happen to him, but for now…he was happy to at least have a place to call his home.

**Author's Note: **Chapter 2 finished. I hope I won't catch any flak for basically reusing the speech the ring gave Razer in "Razer's Edge", but I figured that if he went out of his way to shape Razer's life and ensure he would become a Red Lantern, then he'd do the same to most, if not all his recruits. As such, he'll have had plenty of experience in manipulation to the point where he could literally use the same message each time and have the desired effect. Next we'll follow his formal introduction and I was thinking about a timeskip after that. The details aren't set in stone, so stay tuned! As always, feedback is highly welcomed!


	3. Baldest Lantern, Reporting In!

Baldest Lantern, Reporting In!

He had to admit that Shard wasn't really what he expected the Red Lantern headquarters to be, albeit not having known much about anything to do with them prior to his semi-willing admission into what he could only imagine was a type of military guild or Masonic order that tries to influence the galaxy from behind a shroud of lies and deceit…that or he was looking too much into it. Regardless, he thought it would be a frozen mountain retreat or monastery on some forgotten, out of the way planet. Instead he got a vast city placed on an even larger asteroid with giant towers of pitch black and red lighting to illuminate everything. He didn't know why, but he hated it already.

He seemed to hate everything now that he thought about it clearly. Like every single minor inconvenience that had plagued him before – the same ones that he just shrugged off as inescapable evils – now ticked him off to no relief, constantly nibbling at him in frustration. His job beforehand was to ensure his clients made as much money as possible, but to do this he was plagued by endless lawyers and officials making sure that everything he did was legitimate. Why? Was his word so much to ask for? The last months he had with his family were now forever tarnished and soiled because of the anger he felt for failing to live up to his responsibilities, and it was all their fault.

They were out to get him, weren't they? All of them were! Maybe he stepped on the wrong person's toes a couple years ago and this was payback, or maybe they felt he was untrustworthy. What kind of a brainless moron did you have to be to mistrust him? He was a kind, law-abiding citizen who did his best to keep to the honorable side of a commonly dishonorable profession. The more he thought about it all – all the costs for food education for his kids, pointless insurance fees, medical bills, housing upkeep and utilities…Then it was the fact that all his taxpayer money that went to defense was completely useless given their failure to prevent a disaster. He knew people had it rougher than him, and just a couple days ago all these things were just minor displeasures in life. But now? He couldn't put his finger on it, but everything that before was comparable to tiny insect bites now felt like gory flesh wounds in his life.

All the while his ring seemed to love it. He felt its energy flowing through his veins It was polluting his blood. The more rage he felt when he looked back on his life, the stronger he became. He felt like he could climb buildings, pick up starships and toss them around, jump off mountains and not feel a thing. He felt empowered. Alive. He knew better than to let the anger overtake him, however, so he tried to calm himself down. Every deep breath he took seemed help just a little bit, but the less rage he felt, the greater the sense of emptiness became. Like something was missing. All it took was a thought of the injustice that had been thrust onto him to get him back on the right track, though. He didn't like being angry, but if the ring wanted him mad, he'd be mad. If it wanted him furious, he'd be furious. It wasn't very hard. The lowest he'd ever gotten to in the hours he's had it was "mild-to-medium annoyance".

The trip was rather long – the Forgotten Zone was rather vast in scope, after all – but he did make it in the end. The ring needed him here for a reason he had yet to identify, yet a feeling in his gut told him everything was going to make itself known to him soon enough. No more stumbling around in the dark – he would shine a red light on all his uncertainties. His feet touched down on the landing pad, two soldiers saluting him as soon as they saw him. They were dressed in matching red uniforms, seemingly more heavily armored than his own, and carried two very long rifles. Why did they salute, though? He just got here and they were obviously people of rank…Did his ring give him some sort of authority over people here?

"Lord Atrocitus told us to await you here, Red Lantern. We are to take you to your comrades and they shall take you there."

So he _was _going to meet Atrocitus. That was good. He needed answers.

"Well that's highly inefficient. Why can't you just take me to Atrocitus directly and I'll meet my 'comrades' after I get some answers here?"

The two soldiers turned to each other before looking back to him.

"Our master gave us the order and we won't question it. Perhaps he doesn't find us worthy of meeting his gaze. Moreover he gave us explicit instructions to not waste any time, so if you would please come with us, we'll take you to meet Red Lantern Bleez."

'What the heck kind of a name is Bleez?' he wanted to ask them, but knew better than to already make an ass out of himself. He instead settled for, "Fine. Then lead the way."

And so they did. The main 'boulevard' of this station stretched to a glowing red light he couldn't make out from this distance. The roads were being patrolled by soldiers, with an occasional official looking alien dressed in immaculate formal attire (red and black, of course) passing by as well. He even saw a streak of light passing over them and heading in the direction of the mysterious light off in the distance, which he could only figure to be one of the Red Lanterns like him. It was odd how quickly he was getting accustomed to his new life. He hadn't even mourned for his family or paid his respects to them, deciding that avenging them would be the best respect he _could_ pay, as this wasn't a natural cause or an accident: someone actively killed them and was still roaming rampant. To do anything short of seeking revenge would be an insult to everything they lived for.

The two soldiers seemed uneasy as they finally reached what seemed to be one of the most well decorated of these skyscrapers – it had a door carved in depictions of various battles and triumphs, a tall and menacing figure standing over a pile of corpses, various skull and bone designs and an assortment of other offsetting designs laid onto the metal. Above the door was the Red Lantern insignia, glowing proudly. This was clearly a place of importance. He figured it would be either a control center or barracks – somewhere the Red Lanterns could be without the interference of the common rabble. It made him feel…expected. The carvings spoke to him. He wanted to be part of it all. A looming sense of uncertainty continued to linger over him, however. He'd only been here for about ten minutes and already he was deemed more worthy of respect than soldiers who'd been trusted to escort newcomers and act as first impressions. He just didn't know what he was supposed to do yet, but luckily he'd soon find his teacher.

"Bleez is right inside. Press your ring to the lock and it will let you in."

"Good. You may go now." He replied, rapidly getting used to the sense of authority.

The soldiers saluted once again before turning back to return to their posts. Shal felt giddy again. This was working out even better than planned. His attention turned to the small lock on the door; a slight indentation for the ring was right where the soldier said it would be. Finally, his ticket to respect and pride was here. He'd walk in there and prove to them that he's worthy of the ring. His rage was pure and just, and before long he'd show them all how he can use it. The galaxy should tremble, for Shal'ai Draxus of Taloa was now on a warpath!

"It's not gonna unlock itself you know!" shouted a skeletal being, its skull of similar structure to that of a terran goat. The being was dressed similar to him, albeit with the armor increased in size to match his larger proportions. It also wore a Red Lantern ring, marking his status in the organization. He got a clear sight of it when he moved in to push the Taloan aside and press his ring on the door.

"I was looking at the carvings!" shouted Shal'ai in return, not liking the fact that his moment of triumph was stampeded u[on by a shove and condescending remark from a cow.

"You were in my way – I don't care what you were doing!"

Shal clenched his fist, the rage building inside of him. No…this wasn't right. He couldn't lose his cool _this_ easily. He took the deepest breath he could muster and continued, "Then get in or get out of my way. I just got here and need to see Bleez."

"Then stop talking to me and get moving already." He said, not even giving him a chance to reply as he walks into the room, leaving him alone on the street. So these were the mighty Red Lanterns – his comrades. He'd better get used to living like this, as they will not be going away anytime soon. Sighing once again, he passes through the door and is met by a barrage of red. Red curtains, red carpets, red drapes (yes they do match, now stop giggling), and basically red everything. The walls themselves were black, however, but the tapestries covering them ensured that only a few cracks of the surface could be seen. As with the doors, they all showed battles. Various planets, tribes, war parties, savage beasts – all were conquered and enslaved by the Red Lantern Corps, each tapestry with a different member leading the corpsmen. There was a large spherical creature, a blue woman with skeletal wings, the same bovine he saw outside and many, many more.

The hallway led to a round chamber, the tiles beneath them forming the Red Lantern symbol – a symbol they must love dearly, judging by how almost everything they owned incorporated it. The room split up into four hallways, each with its own elevator. The entire building was comprised of these three separate sections, each towering high into the building and serving its own function. The sign were written in an odd language he couldn't recognize, but his ring was kind enough to act as a translator. Forward were the barracks and mess, left was to the training halls and armory, while the one on the right led to the Red Lantern Corps Archives. Unsure of where to go, he decided to try something on a hunch.

"Um…Ring…Find me Red Lantern Bleez." He commanded, unsure if rings could even work on voice commands, or even if they did – would they work to find other members?

"Red Lantern Corpsman Bleez is currently in the training hall, 11th floor from the elevator to your left."

Well, mystery solved! He hoped his training would successfully teach him all the tricks and hidden secrets of mastering this thing, as so far it let him fly light-years in vacuum in just a couple hours, acted as a personal translator and even a GPS. There was still more to it, though. He could feel it calling to him, begging him to unleash its potential. He would gladly give in, but his lack of knowledge on the specifics of how to achieve this was holding him back. The last time he even did something as basic as flying was because of the ring's automated programming kicked in to take him here rather than it being his actual intention to do it. Perhaps a warrior would have better knowledge on how to utilize a weapon, but that just wasn't who he was – he was just a businessman who happened to get angry enough to call it over.

In the elevator and heading toward the 11th floor, Shal took this moment to focus on what he was really doing here. He knew he wanted revenge and that these people had resources, but maybe he should have stayed a bit longer to help search for survivors…No…They explicitly stated that he wasn't allowed to tamper with anything, and they clearly didn't need him doing so. But to join a group he had no information about, and to be so far from anywhere recognizable and surrounded by unsavory characters led by a man named "Atrocitus" who had already proclaimed himself to be his new master was…a bit out of his comfort zone. Still, the die had already been cast so now he just had to make the most of the situation, and that would mean seeing Bleez and getting taken to Atrocitus so he can find out who was responsible for destroying the Shine and killing all those people. He had a plan – he just didn't have details.

"Level 11 reached." said the automated voice in the elevator as he stepped out to see the blue-skinned woman with the skeletal wings, revealing red outfit and black hood drawn over the top half of her face that had previously appeared on the tapestry. Unbeknownst to Draxus, she was also the representative for the false-front "RL Corp." that hired the services of the asteroid mover to destroy his planet. In reality, she was partly responsible for it all and unknowingly the one Shal'ai was actually hunting down to begin with. She was…foxy! Her uniform showed off her legs (which were quite impressive) as well as her chest. Of course, those thoughts would have been the first felt by the _old_ Shal'ai, but now that he was a Red Lantern (not to mention a freshly made widower), all he wanted now was to get straight to business and get this over with already. Atrocitus would give him what he needs, or else be of no use to him. Less than no use, actually, as this was time he _could_ be using to track down his quarry.

"I take it you're Bleez?"

She turned to look at him, sizing him up. A scowl and slight growl was all he got as a response. He took the lack of a negative reply as an affirmation.

"My name is Shal'ai Draxus, and I'm here becau-"

"I know why you're here. Do you think a single one of those rings attaches itself to someone without us knowing about it? But don't think that ring makes you anything special because until you can actually use it, to me you're just a pathetic _worm_. Now form up a stance and get ready!"

…Whoa…He didn't even finish two sentences with her and he'd already been chewed out just for getting a ring to begin with. And…what's a fighting stance that could be considered proper? He raised his fists to chest level and spreads his legs, trying to keep a firm grip on the ground.

"I was told you'd take me to Atrocitus. I thought training would come afterrr-whoa mama!"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence as Bleez ran up to him, sliding on the ground and slipping under his legs only to spin around and trip him by hitting his bent knees at full force. The wind was knocked out of him as his back smacked onto the hard floor, yet before he even had time to realize what was going on, the more well trained of the two Lanterns was standing in front of him with a rather bright ring pointed straight at him.

"_Lord_ Atrocitus doesn't have time to waste on weaklings, worm, and neither do I. On your feet and this time try to last longer than five seconds."

Shal wasn't really in a position to say or do anything else, so he decided that appeasement would be necessary. Getting to his feet, he assumed the same position as before and prepared himself. He could feel the pain already, but if it meant that he'd advance as a Red Lantern, maybe even get some semblance of skills, then it'd be worth it. Besides, it meant he was moving further and further along his goals. He'd meet Atrocitus in no time at all.

Training was grueling. _Beyond_ grueling, in fact. Five hours into it and he was afraid he'd die of exhaustion, but his ring was somehow keeping him alive. Bleez had punched, scraped, kicked, head-butted, jabbed, suplexed or otherwise injured virtually every part of his body. He had a black eye, split lip, multiple cuts and his suit was ripped across the chest…but it was paying off. He felt like he was working with the ring – it made him stay aware, helped him block and dodge and evade. He even managed to score a counterattack in once. He was nowhere even remotely near to her level, but at least he was putting up a fight…sort of. She didn't seem tired, but even she couldn't keep this up forever.

"Had enough, worm?" she asked, taking a couple deep breaths. Bleez did her best not to show it, but five hours of continuous fighting was tiresome even to someone with a power ring fueled by rage.

"I…I think I'd do a better job with a little constructive criticism than just being attacked constantly!"

"You want 'constructive criticism'?" she asks him, taking flight, "Then get _ANGRY_!" Diving right into his chest, she delivered a forceful blow right in the center of his diaphragm…for what might have been the 18th time today. Locking his wrists to the ground with red restraint constructs, "You're weak and gutless!" she shouts, and beginning to dish out punches across his face left and right. She had him locked – there was no way for him to get out of this hold without her consent, and this time…she seemed hell-bent on killing him altogether. Shal knew she was right, though. He didn't train for this. He didn't know how to fight at all…but he would take her advice.

"All I wanted…was information!" he says, smacking his head upward to strike her with a head-butt to the face. "I lost _everything_ and was promised answers!" he continues, slipping an arm free from the grip of her construct and delivering a blow across her cheek. "But instead all I got was people telling me where to go and what to do and then attacking me for no reason!" Grabbing her neck, he punches her in the gut and tosses her aside only for her to regain her balance and once again take to the air. Now blinded with rage, Bleez tries the same move again – diving toward him to deliver a crippling blow, but this time Shal was prepared. He didn't know what he did or how he did it, but just as she closed in on him, a large wave of red energy burst from his ring, hitting Bleez and sending her flying into a wall.

"You _dare_ to call me 'weak'?" he asks, the red energy encircling his body. He was really, really fed up with all this unnecessary action, and his rage at the situation was enough to even generate his first ever construct, albeit unintentionally. Bleez eventually climbed to her feet, whereas Shal was slowly shuffling toward her – the look in his eyes betrayed his feelings: he was ready to finish it there and now and go home. Screw the ring, screw revenge, screw being angry. He just wanted it over with, and taking out this…this Red Lantern witch would somehow accomplish all this for him. Then Bleez…smiled? Alright, this was getting strange.

"Made a construct? Got a bit of payback?...How did it feel?" she asked him, almost as if she hasn't spent the past few hours kicking his rear from here to Ysmault and back. He didn't know why she suddenly felt so chatty, but he had to admit that it was a welcome improvement over needless violence.

"It felt…" He couldn't find the words he needed. Empowering? Righteous? Correct?

"It felt good, I think…The ring liked it, too." The first part made sense, but the second part? Not so much. Still, he said what he felt and he felt what he said.

Bleez walked over to him, her body language not showing any hostility. "You did better than most do for their first try. You're the first I've seen in a _really _long while to make a construct, too." Praise now? This place was just topsy turvy.

"Take me to Atrocitus." he said, not asking for it. He _earned_ it. He wanted answers and he was going to give them to him. Now.

"No."

Shal'ai closed his eyes to take a deep breath, this time trying to control his anger. He didn't want to fight anymore. He just wanted to talk. "May I ask why not?"

"Because you look like you just got a beating you'll be feeling for at least another week. I told you already – Lord Atrocitus doesn't appreciate his soldiers being weak. You'll learn how we operate and master your ring. Survive and thrive and _then_ you'll see our Master."

He was going to argue but then it all kicked in. The sore feeling in his legs almost dropped him to the ground right there. His breathing was heavy, his nose was dripping blood and he could feel the cold air beating on the scathe he had on his chest, the suit there having been torn previously. Her request now made a lot more sense.

"I'll do it…but _Lord_ Atrocitus better have the answers I need."

Bleez smirked again, glad to see the worm learning his place. "Oh, he will. For now get moving to the infirmary. Tomorrow the _real_ training starts."

**Author's Note: **Alright, I'm still on the fence about whether having an "Explore Shard with Bleez and explore background for both characters" or just a time-skip and summary of it all and get to him meeting Atrocitus. Oh, sorry. _Lord_ Atrocitus. Don't worry faithful readers, the summary isn't lying – he will indeed be joining Hal and the rest, but for now I want to try and explore his character a little more so I can have material prepared for when that actually happens. In this chapter I decided to introduce him to the first of the already established RL's – Skallox and Bleez – and went with making her their equivalent of Kilowog, albeit not as nice and cuddly. Just trying to share some of my thoughts here, but I don't want to make it too long. Don't be afraid to share any of yours in the form of a review or PM. I'm always happy to hear ideas!

**Update: **Had to repost this chapter because I accidentally uploaded it without proofreading it. Just kinda forgot that part. "A looming sense of uncertainty loomed over him." Someone get this guy a cookie. I apologize for that and hope the quality of the updated version meets expectations.


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